Chanukah without Omri
Omri is not just my husband; he is a devoted father, a talented 47-year-old shiatzu therapist, and a piece of our nation’s heart…writes Lishay Miran-Lavi.
Omri and Lishay
His daughters Roni and Alma giggle uncontrollably when he tells them stories and plays with them. It’s impossible for us all not to miss the way he embodies love, safety, and life itself. The absence of his voice reverberates not just in our home but across the homes of 99 families who share the same unbearable loss since that terrible morning when Hamas terrorists broke into the south of Israel and took him, and many others, away.
That morning shattered our world. Omri, who always put his family first, was violently taken from our home in Kibbutz Nahal Oz by Hamas terrorists on 7th October 2023. The man who would spend hours tending to gardens, who found joy in the simple pleasure of watching our daughters grow, was ripped away from the life we built together. The last time we heard Omri’s voice was in April, 202 days after his kidnapping, when Hamas released a propaganda video of Omri. That video was already well over 200 days ago.
Much has been achieved militarily over the past months. We are stronger, and we have shown that Israel will not accept the barbaric terror that struck us on October 7. We understand more clearly than ever that we cannot allow the conditions that enabled Hamas to flourish to exist in the future. But this clarity does not change the simple truth of today: Omri and the others must come home.
A deal must be made—not a partial one, not a fragmented one—but a comprehensive and complete deal that brings all the hostages back, from the first to the very last. We cannot allow ourselves to celebrate partial victories while other families continue to endure this unimaginable pain. Every hostage counts. Every life matters. Every soul that has been taken must be returned—those who live to their families, and those who were murdered to the earth where their loved ones can mourn. The deal must reflect this truth.
Some speak in hypotheticals about what might come next. But the time to debate these possibilities is not now. Israel must confront this challenge head-on, and the priority must be clear. We cannot abandon our people. We cannot leave the hostages behind.
This is not just a fight for Omri. It is a fight for Roni and Alma’s future—and for the futures of all Israeli children. It is a fight for our nation’s very soul, for the ethos we have built over generations: that we do not forsake our own. That we bring them home.
What kind of world are we creating for our children if we accept a reality where fathers, mothers, brothers, and sisters can be ripped from their families and left behind? What kind of Israel will we pass on if we let the promise of their return slip away?
This will be the second Hannukah where Roni and Alma will light the candles and ask that Omri will return from Gaza. . We will hold on to the sentiment of the season and the lessons of how a small light can push away darkness and how hope can triumph over despair.
To Roni and Alma, I say: Your father loves you, and I promise we will not stop until he is back in your arms. To the leaders and to the people of Israel, I say: The story of Chanukah teaches us that light will always overcome darkness, but we must act to make it happen. Just as the Maccabees did not wait for divine intervention alone, we cannot wait for a miracle. We must create one. Don’t rest until every hostage is brought home.
We owe it to Omri. We owe it to our children. We owe it to ourselves.
We can give our children a better world. Let’s prove that we are willing to make it a reality.
Like the Chanukah lights that grow stronger each night, our resolve must only strengthen with each passing day.
Bring them home. Now.
